Nishiura Stories of Comfort
by Fujiwara no Seimei
Summary: A series of lightly related one-shots about comfort.  Takes place after the game with Bijou Dai-Sayama.  This series will feature a variety of parings with ambiguous and varying levels of affection. Chapter 1: Oki, Chapter 2: Hanai.
1. Silent Comfort

Part one of a series of one-shots about comfort. They take place after the game with Bijou Dai-Sayama, and so contains spoilers regarding the conclusion of that game.

This series will feature a variety of parings with ambiguous levels of affection. Meaning, it's not shounen-ai if you don't want it to be. But is, if you do.

o°o°o°o°o

It seemed too timely to be coincidental.

Oki Kazutoshi had been more than a little depressed, lately, not quite over the loss of the game against Bijou Dai-Sayama that he considered entirely his fault. He tried to pretend as well as he could, but worried glances from his teammates made it clear that they knew.

They tried their best to console him in a round about way, and from the moment it happened Abe had told him to forget about it. And he must have meant it, because one bad catch from Mizutani earned him the nickname "shit left," but apparently putting Abe out of commission for weeks with a bad throw did not warrant a nickname.

So when he saw the flyer on the floor, he quickly decided that it was probably not bullying so much as it was a call to comfort. "Oki Kazutoshi Secret Fanclub," it read, with a phone number to call in order to organize a cheering club, just for him. It made him smile, as he'd always assumed fan clubs were reserved for cooler players like Hanai or Tajima. Even Mihashi had a following, but him?

No one on the team seemed to have caught wind of it, that first day, as no one mentioned it. He figured he had some across a stray flier that hadn't been meant for him to see. As he stretched that afternoon, he ruminated over the origin of it- maybe there was no fanclub, just the one person who had made the flyer. Maybe no one had called.

He wondered who she was. The girl who made it, tried to make the fanclub. Three days later, he had convinced himself of his story- that there was no fanclub proper, just the one girl with a crush on him. He envisioned her as a sweet, unassuming, lithe girl. Quiet and polite. But he also figured she was in his class, considering he'd found the flyer in the room by the door. He couldn't place a classmate in that description, and had spent one day of class scanning faces in the room until he got yelled at for not paying attention.

On the eighth day after discovering it, the paper had grown worn from being folded in his pocket wherever he went. If it had meant to cheer him up, it had succeeded, because in moments of doubt, he would tap his pocket and feel that the note was there, it was real, and someone was supporting him.

He knew he couldn't carry it around anymore, otherwise it would disintegrate.

So on that day, after everyone else had changed and run out to the field, Oki hung back for just a second. Unfolding it carefully, he re-realized that there was a phone number. Surely that number would lead to the creator of the note? He knew he should be getting to practice, but curiosity overwhelmed him. The sudden fantasy unfolding in his head of reaching this girl, hitting it off, marrying her. And his fingers were trembling as he pressed the buttons and brought the phone to his ear.

When the phone rang on the other end, it took him a second to process the fact that there was a second ringing, in time.

It was in the room, with him. Suddenly, he became confused, and snapped his phone shut. The second ringing stopped.

Now his fantasies were crashing down. Someone had been teasing him all along. Was it Tajima? He had stupid ideas about what cheered people up, but he'd never follow through with a plan like this. Maybe Izumi? He was kind of an asshole sometimes.

Near tears, Oki dialed again. Maybe it was a coincidence.

But it wasn't, and the phone rang simultaneous with his own again. With nerves rattling, he followed the sound. Across the room. He moved so slowly that the phone went to voice mail (but an electronic-voiced, anonymous voicemail that gave no identification) and he had to dial a second time.

Now he was face to face with the bag that was ringing, and when realization washed over him of whose it was, he relaxed. He wasn't being teased at all.

He turned over the strap to confirm his assumption, and there was scrawled the name "Nishihiro," in neat characters.

Oki blushed a little, fantasies still long gone, but comforted in the fact that Nishihiro was not one to tease- it wasn't in his nature. And he, too, was suffering from guilt from the Bijou game. And suddenly he was crying a little. He wanted to hug Nishihiro, thank him for his support, tell him how important it had been to him in surviving this past week. That he was selfless and wonderful and one of the best people he had ever known.

Oki wiped his face quickly, realizing it was only a matter of time before someone came looking for him. Practice had surely begun by now. He stuffed the note, neatly folded, into his bag, and blinked the last few tears out of his eyes before running out and locking the door.

When he appeared on the field, the team shouted at him for being late, and he joined them in the circle. He squeezed between Nishihiro and Hanai deliberately, even though room had been made for him next to Suyama, but no one seemed to notice.

And Oki took Nishihiro's hand and held it a little too tight. And Nishihiro held back, hand shaking a little, then warming gradually as the morning sun rose to it's place in the sky over the field.


	2. Knowing Comfort

"In rare cases, when two people aren't listening to one another, they manage to hear everything."

This chapter takes place prior to the events in Chapter 1, "Silent Comfort."

o°o°o°o°o

"Nishihiro?"

Hanai had approached quietly, and was not surprised that the addressee jumped a little, having been sitting there in the changing room long after everyone else had left.

"Oh, Hanai-kun," Nishihiro said, looking up at him. There was a hint of surprise in his eyes, not at Hanai's appearance, but because he seemed to have not noticed that everyone else had left.

"Is everything all right?" Hanai asked.

Nishihiro looked down at his hands. Technically, yes. Everything was alright, because the team was made of good people who didn't hold his poor performance against him. They didn't judge him, never yelled at him. Didn't say a word when he broke down on the field and cried.

"Nishihiro-kun?" Hanai repeated, reaching a hand out to rest on his teammate's shoulder. Nishihiro's gaze snapped up, he had sunk into his thoughts again and given the wrong idea by not replying in a timely fashion.

Or maybe it was the right idea.

"Yes," he stammered. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you."

Hanai frowned a little, and turned to sit down next to him. "No one is mad at you, you know," he said.

Nishihiro nodded. "I know."

He grew silent again.

"Everyone is busy blaming themselves today," Hanai went on, leaning his head back.

Nishihiro nodded again. He had considered, in addition to his own guilt, the guilt Oki and Abe and Mihashi must have been feeling. Oki especially, because he was clearly not himself today, and everyone had known he felt responsible for Abe's injury.

"The one time Mihashi isn't blaming himself for everything, and everyone else has taken up his mantle," Hanai mused.

"Mmm," Nishihiro said, clearly not listening.

"Hey," Hanai said, giving Nishihiro a gentle push with his shoulder.

"Ah. Yes?" he replied, startled as ever.

What Hanai wanted to say was _Do you want to talk or just brood? _A better person in Hanai considered instead, _Are you even listening? _And the melodramatic side of Hanai flirted with _You don't need me here, do you? _

But finally, he settled on "Nevermind." Feeling defeated and a little childish, Hanai stood up as if to leave. He shot a look down at Nishihiro, as if to say, _See? If you're not going to rely on me, I'm going to leave_.

But Nishihiro was looking back at him now, eyes wide, as if he'd remembered something important. As if he'd just realized why Hanai was here, that he was here for _him_.

"Nishi-"

"I'm sorry!" Nishihiro blurted. His eyes had welled up with tears, and suddenly things he had kept in check were tumbling out.

"Nishihiro," Hanai said, kneeling down and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. _Please, let me comfort you. Just this once_, Hanai thought, desperately. As if to respond to his silent plea, Nishihiro lifted his arms and wrapped them around Hanai's back, shuddering a little as he tried to suppress hard sobs.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hit it even once! I couldn't even-" he cried.

And Hanai stroked Nishihiro's hair, murmuring close to his ear, "It's okay, it's okay."

"It was just so embarrassing...and everyone...no one..."

Hanai hugged him tighter.

"And Abe's hurt, and Oki's sad, and I really thought, for just a little while, that we were going to go to Koshien..."

Hanai nodded silently, and he felt Nishihiro's tears soak into his the shoulder of his shirt, wet against his skin.

Hanai ran a hand up Nishihiro's back, and sighed, almost too obviously. He didn't notice when Nishihiro grew still, and if he had, maybe he would have realized that his next move- pressing his lips gently and sweetly on Nishihiro's temple- was the wrong one. When it happened, Nishihiro froze for a second beneath the feeling of Hanai's comforting kiss, before jumping back, eyes wide at his teammate.

The captain hadn't been thinking. He hadn't been thinking about how disappointed he'd been when they lost, or how he felt like a failure of a captain. How, in moments of panic, there was nothing he could do. When Abe fell, Tajima took his place. When Mihashi freaked out, Sakaeguchi was there to calm him. But when Nishihiro fell over in tears on the field, Hanai could do something. He could lift him up and carry him off the field, and he hadn't been thinking about how fulfilled he had felt to be effectual.

Until now.

Until now, when he had taken that fullfilled feeling and mixed it up with a million other feelings, some highly innapropriate and fleeting, and made a misstep. Mode a move that shouldn't have been made.

"I'm sorry!" Hanai stammered, suddenly wearing an undiscovered shade of red across his face.

Nishihiro sat, stunned, with his fingertips against the spot that Hanai had kissed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything weird, I promise," Hanai went on, terrified.

Nishihiro lifted his eyes, slowly, to meet Hanai's.

It was true. Hanai didn't necessarily have any romantic feelings for Nishihiro, or any other boy, for that matter. He had been caught up in the freeing feeling of being relied on, being useful.

"It's...okay," Nishihiro said, uneasy. "It's fine. I...should probably get home."

When Nishihiro stood up and gathered his things, he kept his eyes averted far away from Hanai, and the latter became filled with panic. It was clear that Nishihiro was freaked out, and he couldn't think of a single thing he could say that would fix it. He stood up when Nishihiro hoisted his bag over his shoulder.

"Nishi-"

"Hanai-kun," he said, cutting Hanai off. "It's okay."

Hanai was not convinced.

Then Nishihiro stepped forward, closing the gap between them.

"Hanai-kun..." he began, firmly, "You..."

Hanai bit his lip, fearful.

But the next thing he knew, Nishihiro's hands were on his face, pulling him down. Those were Nishihiro's lips on his forhead, kissing with a soft, gentle stillness he'd never known. And now he was looking up again, into Nishihiro's eyes, and he was smiling.

"You were suffering too, weren't you?" He asked. He looked down and took Hanai's hands in his own, feeling them warm up slowly.

"You have a hard job, Hanai-kun. But... you can let us comfort you too. You don't have to be lonely. You're not a bad captain if you need support once and a while."

It occured to Hanai, then, that he wasn't called Nishihiro-sensei for nothing.

Then Nishihiro was waving gently, with a tinge of pink on his cheek, and then he was gone, and the door was closing, and Hanai felt a rush of emotion like he'd never felt before.

And Hanai spent some time there, wiping back tears from his face as he cried. He knew now that he couldn't properly help others with their suffering if he didn't settle his own grief first.

That Nishihiro had acknowledged that grief had helped assuage it. And it was pouring out now- all the feelings of inadequacy, of insecurity, of loneliness. Poured out with the tears that hit the floor of the club room, and would stay there.

Because when he left, he did not take the grief with him, and the place in his heart where it had previously lived was now filled with a warm memory of Nishihiro's comforting touch.

The cicadas were loud, and it was too late and too hot, and he would be scolded for getting home so late.

He didn't care.


End file.
